


Trouble Is a Friend

by Swing Set in December (swing_set13)



Category: Pushing Daisies, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 01:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swing_set13/pseuds/Swing%20Set%20in%20December
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's only if you're in proximity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble Is a Friend

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote angst. I am sorry. This blurb was on my hard drive for ages. Ages. And I finally posted it. I wrote angst. Pushing Daisies angst. So there. Angst in the pants. Unavoidable with Pushing Daisies.

Genim has always been special. Not in that he ever needed a tutor but his mother would smile down at him and pinch his rosy cheeks with a winsome smile. 

“You’re a special boy.” she’d say while making one of her world famous pies. 

They were delectable, gooey and delicious, like a phantom hug. A Heimlich for the soul. And she’d always see him out with a kiss and a hug before he ran to play with his beloved dog, Padfoot.

\---

At this very moment in the town of Beacon Hills, young Genim is 8 years, 43 weeks, 9 days and 2 minutes old. His dog, Padfoot, was 2 years, 4 weeks, 9 days, 5 hours and 12 minutes old. And not a minute older. When he is struck by a semi-truck. It comes as quite a shock to poor Genim. Genim who loved his dog with his whole heart. So when he gingerly touches his snout, he nearly has a panic attack when Padfoot springs to life with a cheerful yip and takes off back home, tail wagging. He doesn't notice the bird that falls from the sky. 

\---

This is the moment young Genim realizes he wasn’t like the other children: nor was he like anyone else, for that matter. Young Genim could touch dead things and bring them back to life. This touch was a gift given to him, but not by anyone in particular. There was no box, no instructions, no manufacturer’s warranty: it just was.

The terms of use weren’t immediately clear, nor were they of immediate concern: young Genim was in love.

His name was Derek.

At this very moment, he was 10 years, 52 weeks, 6 hours and 10 minutes old. Young Genim did not think of Derek as being born or hatched or conceived in any way: Derek came ready-made from the Lego Fun Factory of Life. In their imaginations, young Genim and a boy named Derek conquered the world from villains and all manner of beasts.

Derek was the only boy in the neighborhood that enjoyed Genim’s rabble and gregarious flair for conversation. And long after their play date was over, young Genim remained under Derek’s spell.

Until a blood vessel in his mother’s brain burst, killing her instantly.

\---

"Mom," asks Genim, shakily, his voice cracking. Her prone form on the floor. Time seemed to stand still. "Please wake up."

Young Genim's random gift that was, came with a caveat or two. The kitchen clock ticked merrily by when he touched his mother's cheek. 

"Oh dear, I must have fainted," his mother blinks from her prone position on the floor. She leverages herself up and smiles winningly at her son. 

After a minute, Genim releases a breath, and feels safe to look away from his mother who is dusting off her apron and chattering about how clumsy she is and moving to the oven to pull out the now burning pie. Genim looks out across the lawn and sees Derek's father fall flat on his back, dead. 

Genim's mother follows his line of sight and drops the pie in shock.

\---

It was a gift that not only gave – it took. Young Genim discovered he could only bring the dead back to life for one minute without consequence; any longer, and someone else had to die.

\---

"It was an awful day," murmurs his mother, tucking him in at night. Genim could still see the coroner's van taking away Derek's father if he closed his eyes.

In the grand universal scheme of things, young Genim had traded his mother’s life for Derek’s father.

"Sweet dreams, my darling Genim," she smiles.

\---

But there was one more thing about touching dead things that young Genim didn’t know and he learned it in the most unfortunate way.

\---

His mother leans down to brush her lips against his forehead and she drops, suddenly to the ground. Dead.

"Mom?" Genim whispers, touching her face, hesitantly, with no avail.

\---

First touch: life. Second touch: dead again, forever.


End file.
